


i wanna shake up the system, i wanna rattle your bones

by duplighoul



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Mild Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:10:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2699180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duplighoul/pseuds/duplighoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh's fixation and inevitable infatuation with Tyler and the infamous controversies of the quality of his blowjobs will undoubtedly be the end of Josh. But for now, he decides, there's always time to practice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna shake up the system, i wanna rattle your bones

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sure if anyone remembers me, but i was "mynameislame". i didn't anticipate my comeback fic to be porn but i wrote this at 3:30 this morning and decided it would probably be enough to sedate anyone who still expects fics from me. i have an angsty kind of thing still being edited atm so expect that before 2015, maybe.

Tyler isn’t known for his overwhelming skills in the art of blowjobs. In fact, Josh is sure that if a Fellatio Olympics ever did exist, or come to exist in his lifetime, Tyler wouldn’t make it past auditions. Josh would go as far as to say that Tyler is god awful at giving head, and Tyler would agree.

It’s not like he likes giving it either; he’s a singer, a rapper. He uses his lungs accordingly and by association, his throat, which usually doesn’t need a dick somewhere in that vicinity to record music – but Josh isn’t one to discriminate. Josh is pro-blowjob. In the workspace, though… Not so much.

All bullet points under the label “Why Tyler is Bad at Blowjobs” is completely contradictory, entirely moot tonight, because Tyler’s lowering his head further than he’s used to, and he’s learning how much teeth is too much teeth, and he uses the harsh back of his tongue to scrap ever so tantalizingly slowly over the head of Josh’s dick, and Jesus Christ.

Tyler has a mouth, okay. He’s not amazing at head but the pretty pretty sight of his lips stretched around Josh’s cock is more than enough incentive for Josh to ask – _beg_ for Tyler to suck him off. Usually it works, but they tour a lot and Tyler drinks, like, eighty water bottles days before a show and is generally nervous and cautious for his throat.

Not as nervous before though, Josh’s heart swells and aches. He feels old, in that train of thought. They haven’t been doing this a lot, performing in front of seas of people, but the sea of faces have individual lives, and they took the time out of their schedules to come here, for the band. For Tyler, and his words.

But as Tyler caught his attention, motioned softly for Josh to stay behind instead of going out with the guys, Josh _knew_ it wasn’t just another night of mutual masturbation. Tonight would be different.

Don’t get him wrong, Josh doesn’t _hate_ mutual masturbation, most of it is no different from what he does, and has done, pretty much (on average) three times a week since he was a teenager.

But watching Tyler is a whole other level of euphoria, a whole other world that opened up when Tyler confessed to Josh, when Josh realized there’s no one else in the entire world he would rather tour with than Tyler. He’s adorable, really, when his hand slaps and locks on his mouth, his usually calm features twitching with pleasure.

Blowjobs are, more or less, quieter. It’s the only reason Tyler has to cover his mouth, so the other guys won’t hear it. They do anyways, but they’re polite about it.

This time, though, it’s Josh’s turn to bite the heel of his hand and resist thrusting up into Tyler’s mouth, to ignore the bursting feeling of need to bury himself in Tyler completely as he grips the fabric of Josh’s jeans that were half-heartedly shoved only halfway down his thigh.

Tyler’s free hand, the one not wrapped around what he couldn’t swallow down, the trooper, reaches behind Josh’s balls and strokes slowly, fingernail grazing the skin there. It should not feel as good as it does, but _fuck,_ it does, and Josh’s toes curl. He sees constellations behind his eyes while his other hand curls into what little hair Tyler has on his head.

“Christ, Ty.” Josh says despite himself. By default they’re trained to stay quiet at all costs, but the guys haven’t returned yet, and when it’s loud, when they’re loud, it’s almost too real. They’re accustomed to their safe, quiet space where if anything is said it would shatter on impact.

Josh’s hand goes to Tyler’s neck absently, where spine stops and neck begins, and runs his middle finger across there from bottom to top. Tyler stops when he feels Josh’s finger travel down, but sucks harder and audibly moans around Josh’s dick, grip tightening slightly as Josh’s finger reaches the tiny hairs near the bottom of his scalp.

Josh grins, gaining back the dominance Tyler had over him. He feels the beginnings of drool down his chin and quickly wipes it with the back of his hand.

A little bolder, merely peeking into the rabbit hole, imagination teetering just on the edge of the question, ‘ _How far does this go?_ ’, and Josh uses three fingers against Tyler’s neck, fingernails trailing along his skin like Josh is drawing a map, outlining and documenting uncovered land. It could be viewed as revenge but the way Tyler’s frame shakes and his sucking slams to a halt, it’s more like a gift; neatly wrapped in a bow that looks like a collar, spiked studs and all.

Tyler pulls off Josh’s dick and gasps, arching into his fingers. He looks up at Josh with these hooded, hazy eyes that have determination and soft warmth clumsily mixed together into something that tugs a little on Josh’s heartstrings, plucking a fond cord in his memory. Josh captures this moment and saves it for later.

There’s precome leaking out of the edge of Tyler’s mouth and Josh feels some remorse that they don’t match, but that’s okay.

Josh lets him breathe and Tyler stares into Josh, never at him. He could always read Josh better like this, when he’s vulnerable, so open and raw. Tyler’s mind fizzes out a line, a rhythm, and a song but in the next heartbeat it’s gone.

“Is that, like, a thing? For you?” Josh asks. He pokes Tyler’s neck with a fingernail and gauges Tyler’s reaction.

He shivers and leans forward, away from Josh’s fingernail, uncomfortable.

Instead of answering Tyler locks eyes with Josh as he kisses the head of his cock and dons a little smirk as he sees Josh’s eyes glaze over, question forgotten, subconsciously groaning aloud.

They don’t have much time left before the guys come back so Tyler doesn’t focus on theatricality and instead jacks Josh off into his mouth. He closes his lips around the head of Josh’s dick and sucks softly but consistently as his hand works Josh over.

His hands are soft and the tips of his fingers are rough and it feels amazing, it feels like something a songwriter would describe in a song; something about the drag of his pinkie, something about the way his index finger curls at an angle, away from his other fingers, the way Tyler’s head is slightly turned down, but still manages to keep their eyes connected in an eternal war for dominance, and Josh tugs on Tyler’s hair and tries to vocal his warning, instead it comes out as a weak moan and Josh feels shameful heat latch onto his shoulders and caress his face.

Tyler swallows like a champ, he knows they have no more Kleenex and toilet paper is a gift from the Gods. Josh’s body is curved against him, knees locking Tyler’s head in place, forearms resting on his own thighs as Tyler sits on his legs.

It occurs to Josh at this very moment that he’s naked and Tyler still has his jeans on, and he feels so _alive_ and scared, vulnerable and open, completely for Tyler.

Tyler’s hand is shaking as he unzips his fly and roughly grasps his own throbbing dick, a broken sob-like sound escaping the clutches of Tyler’s jaws. His head falls against Josh’s thigh as he gets himself off.

Josh feels… something strong within him. He feels an emotional, sort of electronic pull towards Tyler in this moment, looking down at him as he whimpers and bites his bottom lip so he can come, too.

The wave of affection is far from over when Josh slowly runs his nails back and forth on Tyler’s neck as an act of solace, Tyler’s saving grace from the burning ache between his thighs.

“Shh,” he says, smiling fondly.

Tyler’s breath catches and his shoulders jump. His hand moves faster.

“Shh, shh shh,” Josh says at the feeble noises clawing and ripping their way out of Tyler’s mouth. He isn’t very vocal in bed and it almost breaks Josh’s heart, he’d love the hear the beautiful sounds he makes at his most delicate and intoxicating state, but then there are moments like this, where Tyler has shut down his boundaries and let’s go, allowing himself to feel and express.

“It’s okay,” Josh reassures, applying more pressure on his nails. Tyler’s voice gets louder, hoarse, and breaks.

“I’ve got you.” Josh hears a shuddering breath and Tyler stops, Tyler comes, Tyler leaves this plane of existence and ascends to his seventh heaven, his own island of bliss as his shoulders release the tension stored in the muscles there. Europhoric angels inject this feeling, this moment into Tyler’s veins, and he feels _everything_ course through his body, striking his heart near immediately.

Tyler’s heart stutters and his eyes spurt tears. He doesn’t know why he’s crying; the realization hits that he’s fully clothed and Josh isn’t and yet Tyler is the one who feels naked.

“Ty, Tyler?” Josh’s protective instincts kick in when he feels wet hot tears on his thigh, his voice wavering yet strong. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge the smile growing on Tyler’s mouth as he shakily stands and holds onto Josh’s shoulders like they’re firm, steady boulders.

Josh is his rock, he realizes. He grounds Tyler, makes him feel secure and safe in his most insecure and weakest moments.

“Did I hurt you?” Josh asks, worried eyes seeking Tyler’s tear-soaked ones.

Tyler’s smile widens as he shakes his head.

“No,” he places his knees on either side of Josh so he can hug him properly, without Josh standing.

Later, they both lie in post coital glow; Josh with his arms folded behind his head, and Tyler with one arm draped over the bed, lying entirely on top of Josh. His eyes are still red and there have been two waves of tears since they’ve lied down, and Tyler thinks there might be one more if he keeps thinking about him and Josh as more than Tyler and Josh.

“You didn’t really answer me,” Josh stays. Tyler shifts a little; the tiny space makes it feel like he walked a marathon in the bus, so he can look at Josh properly.

“Is that a thing?” Josh asks, arm bending awkwardly and painfully so he can hold Tyler’s neck there. He knows his hand will get cramped and he’ll regret it soon because the next show is in a few days, but the moment the molecules in his fingers meet the atoms in Tyler’s neck feels like hot blue electricity and Tyler jerks upon collision, twitches, and smiles.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if i made any spelling errors, and if this fic makes up for the nine months i've been away.
> 
> thank you for reading! ♥


End file.
